CHAPTER 17

For the past week, I have been sending my passport back and forth to embassies. And If I don’t have all my visas ready by the end of the week, Ismail will have me served up on a silver platter for dinner. Ismail had to push back the trip to next week because of me. I feel bad, but there is nothing I can do about it except pray and hope to have all my visas by next week. 

I am currently at a car workshop, getting my car back from repair. I am about to get into my vehicle when I get a call from Waheeda.

“As-salamu Alaykum,” I greet answering the call.

“Wa alaykumu as-salam. Where are you, sis?” Waheeda asks.

“I am fine, thank you for asking,” I return with sarcasm dripping from my voice.

“I don’t need to ask you that as I saw you this morning, so I know you are fine,” Waheeda says chuckling.

“What a lovely sister you are,” I say smiling.

“I know, I try my best. Anyway, I am calling to ask where you are,” Waheeda says.

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